“Our visitor must have got up early and gone fishing,” explained Ben.
The fish were soon sizzling over the fire. Ben, waiting to have them browned to a turn, happened to glance at the rifle of the Indian and his game bag.
Something about the latter suddenly enchained his attention. He advanced towards it, picked it up, and uttered so vivid an exclamation of surprise that Bob ran quickly to his side with the inquiring words:
“What now, Ben?”
“This bag.”
“I see it,” nodded Bob.
“Do you notice anything familiar about it?” asked Ben, some latent excitement in his tones.
“Why—no.”
“Look closer,” directed Ben. “See, it is made of a strip of something caught into bag shape and fastened with thorns. Do you notice the material? A strip of canvas.”
“What of it?”